


It Never Works Out the Way We Planned

by loveisgravity



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: AU, F/F, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gender Neutral Character, One Shot, Original Character(s), Other, POV First Person, non-binary original character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 07:48:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13430193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveisgravity/pseuds/loveisgravity
Summary: A short story about Waverly and Nicole’s first time, but not everything goes as planned.  Set in an AU.





	It Never Works Out the Way We Planned

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this to be a more traditional first time story, but I wanted to challenge myself to write a gender neutral character, one that could be read as either a man or a woman. So I changed the story to make “Nicole” a gender neutral “you.” I wrote her character without any gender markers, so she can be read as either a man or a woman. My point was to write a character who is sexy and a love interest but without relying on gender. 
> 
> I also wanted to write a non-binary character who uses They/their pronouns, separate from the gender neutral character. 
> 
> I’m curious to know what you think, how do those characters work? Can you enjoy the story? Or is it distracting?
> 
> Also, I made the “Wynonna” character Nicole’s sister, not Waverly’s, and renamed her.
> 
> I just like messing around with these characters.

It Never Works Out the Way We Planned 

It’s you. Always, it comes back to you.  
It’s the gravitational pull of your body on mine that I feel as I get closer.  
I’m driving down the back roads and I can’t help but envision what you’ll feel like. I let my mind wander and it’s your hands on my body that I imagine. A hundred different scenarios and I can’t keep up. I slam on the brakes of my red Jeep as I almost run a stop sign. I need to keep my head on the road. 

My car rounds the corner and I am a block away. Tension building within me, my body knows it’s close. Your driveway is in sight. 

My heart pounds as I step out of the car, I try to calm myself on the short walkway. But there you are, wearing a smile, holding out a hug, and I melt. This is where I want to be. 

I pull back from your embrace. You grab my hand, walk me in the door, and ask if I want anything. “You.” I reply, and I lean in, cup my hands around your cheeks and pull you to me. The bottom slides out from under me as you wrap your arms around my waist. Your lips, the soft curl of your red hair in my fingers, the warmth of your mouth in it’s embrace of mine, I get lost in you. 

“Hello to you.” You flash that smile, and it melts me. You are so beautiful, it hurts to look at you. So I lean in again to kiss you, but you pull back.  
“You just got here. We have plenty of time.” You laugh, and all I can think is- I don’t.   
I pout as you lead me to your kitchen. I smell the herbs growing in the corner. I run my hand up the side of your impossibly strong arm as you lean over to open the fridge.  
“Can you start the drinks?” You ask, handing me a bottle, ice cold, and pointing out the limes on the counter. “I need to run to the cellar to get something.” You say and kiss my cheek before walking out. 

I turn around and place the bottle on the counter, pick out a knife from the block, and a lime from your basket. Gently, I slice off the end of the deep, green fruit. The tangy scent lifts off as some juice slides down onto the cutting board. I switch the lime around and run the knife back over the skin of the fruit, pressing down with my hand as a slice peels away. Back and forth, the knife cutting, the fruit falling away, until nothing is left. 

I walk over to your cabinet, open the door, and raise my hands to get two glasses down when I hear you walk back in. I feel you step up behind me, your lips on the back of my neck, and your hands slide around my stomach, searching out the exposed skin at my waist. I let my own hands rest on the glasses, encouraging your fingers north. I lean my head back against your shoulder as you continue to kiss up my neck. God, I want you to reach up and take my breasts. And they start to inch closer as you hum in my ear. I am ready, but you stop, drop your hands, and whisper in my neck.  
“Not so fast. You need to earn it.” And that’s when I know I'm in trouble. Glorious, delicious trouble. I sigh.

“First, I want you to have a drink with me.” You say, as I spin to face you.   
“Not even one kiss before?” I ask very sweetly, not knowing if you can resist.   
This is a test of wills.   
“You’ve had one kiss,” you smirk, leaning in, almost closing the distance to my mouth. Breathing against my lips, you whisper “and I don’t trust myself to stop. I have plans for tonight.”   
Fuck me.  
My brain stalls as you pull back slowly, wrapping your fingers around mine as you take the glasses from me. I want to kiss that shit-eating grin right off your face. You know exactly what you’re doing to me. But I can’t move. I watch silently as you prepare the drinks. You are still wearing that grin when you face me, offering the cold drink. Taking my free hand, you lead me to the back door.

The door leads to your screened-in porch. The warm air gently surrounds me, as you slide the door open. The light scent of honeysuckle drifts over from your yard. The cushioned patio furniture looks worn, but comfortable. I set my drink down on the glass-topped table in front of the couch, and sink back into the wicker and cushions. I look up to see where you will choose to sit, hoping you’ll join me on the couch. Instead, you pick a high back, wooden chair across from me.   
“So, what are these plans you have for me?” I ask, my smile spreading.   
“Well first, I want to enjoy a drink. I love it out here. This is my favorite space in the house.” I nod. “Then, I want to share dinner with you.”  
“Okay” I encourage.  
You stop to take a slow sip of your drink, then set the glass next to mine.   
“What do you have planned for dinner?” I ask, slowly rising from the couch. I am way too far from you to make me happy.  
“It’s a family recipe, a spicy beef and noodle soup.” Your eyes watch me as I shift my legs to step around the table between us.   
“Is it really spicy?” I ask as I step in front of you.  
“Will that be a problem?” You reach up and place your hands on the back of my thighs just below the hem of my skirt.   
I shudder slightly before answering, “I don’t think so?” I feel your fingers creep up the back of my legs, stretching just under the skirt.   
“Was that a question?” You ask, squeezing my legs. My mouth falls open as I quickly gasp.   
“I'm not sure, depends on how spicy.” I recover, stepping up to your seat, straddling your lap. I lower myself delicately down. “Have you been cooking all day?” Knowing your reputation as a great cook, the thought of you working in the kitchen turns me on.  
“Actually, I made it yesterday.”   
I huff, a little disappointed. Reaching down, I take your right hand and pull it to my mouth. I kiss the tips of your first and second fingers, then open my mouth and run my tongue up the top pad of your two fingers. Your eyes close as you rest your forehead on mine. “I was hoping to taste the spice level on your fingertips.” Your left hand grips my hip tightly, as I place your fingers in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around them again, encircle them with my lips before pulling them out with a soft pop.   
“Oh God,” you groan, “This isn’t fair. I planned a nice dinner for us, to start this off right…”  
“I’m too impatient for nice.” I interrupt, with a coy smile, grinding down into your lap.  
You lift your head and look me in the eyes, “I can tell.”  
“So, are you going to force me to sit through dinner?” I plead.  
“Just for that, I think I will.” You bite back a smile. “This is our first time together, I want it to be special.”  
I wrap my arms around your neck, gently kiss you and pull back to look you in the eyes again. “It already is. But if you need me to be good and eat dinner, I will. You’re going to pay for making me wait, though.”  
Your smile stretches across your whole face, and I can’t tell if it’s because I’m willing to follow you, or you’re thinking about how I’ll make you pay.  
“You better hurry up and feed me, I have plans of my own,” I whisper.  
“I’m on it!”

After leading me back to your dining room, we set our drinks down and you head into the kitchen. I follow, leaning on the door frame. I enjoy watching you move about the kitchen. You are so confident, quickly throwing a salad together, as you warm the soup. You ask me about my favorite foods and flavors.   
“Try this,” you hold out a green leaf that you pulled from a jar. The leaf smells pungent and vinegary. The spice hits my tongue first, then sour and salt.  
“It’s my homemade kimchi. What do you think?” You look hopeful.  
“Wow, that’s strong.” Coughing back the heat, “I like it,” I choke out, then laugh as I continue coughing. “Is the soup this spicy?”  
“No,” you smile.  
“Good, because I might be in trouble.” I try to calm my throat as I grab a new glass and fill it at the sink. The cool water hits my mouth like a salve. “How long have you been making kimchi?” I turn to face you, wiping a tear from my eye.   
“This is my first batch, maybe I used too many chili peppers.”  
“Or I’m just a light-weight.” I smile, clearing my throat. A new coughing fit bursts out, as I try to will my chest to relax. “Sorry,” I choke, and try to sip my water.   
“I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” You walk up to me, and put a hand on the back of my shoulder. “Are you okay?” I nod as I continue to sip the water.  
“I will be.” I laugh, and clear my throat. I try to pull myself together as you turn back to the dinner prep. 

I excuse myself and head to your bathroom. Regaining my breath as I lock the door, standing at your sink, I collect my thoughts. A few more deep breaths and I’m sure that I’m over the coughing fit. I splash some cool water on my face and clean up a bit. Staring at myself in the mirror, I can see the want written across my face. I feel desperate and that’s not where I want to be. I need some confidence. I want to take back some control. I look down into the sink waiting for inspiration to strike. I want to feel sexy without feeling desperate. I decide to remove my panties, a secret for me to know and you to find out.

I sit on the edge of your tub to slide off my underwear, they are already pretty well soaked. The thought brings a smile of anticipation to my face. I can’t wait to see what your reaction will be when you first realize I’m traveling commando. I think through a few options for how to tell you, or better yet, show you. Holding the panties in my palm, I look for a good hiding place. I don’t want you to walk into your bathroom and find them sitting out somewhere. I glance behind the toilet, but opt not. Then I look at your medicine cabinet. Standing up, I open the mirrored door and find plenty of room for a temporary pair of panties. I quickly weigh the chances that you’ll need something in there before my reveal, and guess that I’m safe. Closing the cabinet door, I finish in the bathroom and head back out to find you, a little extra pep in my step.

The salads sit finished as you serve the soup. I step up behind you and place my hands on your waist. I lean my chest into your back.  
“That smells great,” I husk out.  
“Are you okay?” You ask, turning around to face me. “I’m sorry if that was too hot.”  
“You are the only thing that’s too hot in here.” I say, playfully.  
“Ahh, smooth.” You smile down at me and place a gentle kiss on the side of my face. “Seriously, you’re okay? The soup isn’t nearly as spicy as the kimchi.”  
“Thanks, Sweetie.”   
“Sweetie!” You smile again. “I like it.”   
“Yeah? How about baby, as in- Baby, you better get this meal going.”   
“You got it.” You hand me a bowl of steaming soup and grab the other for yourself. We head back into the dining room, and sit opposite each other. 

It’s really a shame you don’t know my secret, I could have so much fun sitting across from you. I take a sip of my drink while waiting for the soup to cool.   
“Did you want anymore water?” you ask, as you stand up from the table. “I’m going to get some for myself.”  
“Sure, I think I left my glass on the counter. Thanks, baby.” I smile and wink.  
“I think I could get used to that.” You reply, heading into the kitchen.   
I hear your phone ring as you fill the glasses.   
“Shoot, it’s my sister. I need to grab this.” You pop your head around the door of the kitchen. “Do you mind grabbing the glasses?”  
“No problem.” I say, pushing back from the table.   
As I head into the kitchen, I hear your half of the conversation.  
“Actually, it’s not a great time… No, I understand…. Isn’t there someone else you can ask… Fuck. OKAY, okay. I’ll be there.” There is a long pause before you step back into the kitchen with a sheepish grin on your face.  
“So, my sister is at a party, and needs a ride home.” You cringe, “Would it be okay if we quickly swing by and get her? I sort of promised her that she could always call me if she needed a ride.”  
“Of course. I understand. Where is she?”  
“Well it’s not too far, we can get there and back again in under an hour.” You sigh out loud. “Sometimes she is so inconvenient. At least her timing is.” You add. “Are you starving? God, I’m so sorry, this isn’t how I planned for this night to go.”  
“It’s fine, I’m not starving, actually.” I say, walking up and wrapping my arms around your waist. “My hunger has been hijacked by your smoking hot body.”   
“Oh really, well then…” You drift off, shaking your head. “You’re dangerous.”  
“You have no idea.” I jest back.

We pull up in front of a large, two story house, and the first thing I notice is the beat pounding out some house music. It is now beyond dusk, but the lights are low in the windows and the front door is standing wide open. I’m a little surprised the cops haven’t been called for a noise complaint. A young couple staggers out the door, arm in arm. One drops a tell-tale red solo cup on the lawn. Slowly swinging their head around to look for it, the person shrugs and wanders off. This doesn’t bode well.  
“How does your sister know these people?” I ask.  
“They’re college friends of ours. They’re renting the house as a group.”  
“Ah. And so you know them, too?”   
You glance over at me from across the car, “Sure, why?”   
“I’m wondering if this was actually an invitation to the party?”  
“We’ll just pick her up and head out, we don’t need to stay long.” You give my hand a reassuring squeeze. “I haven’t forgotten about our plans,” you smile.

As we step in through the front door, you slip your arm around my waist to keep me close as we navigate through the crowded living room. The music is pushing into every corner, seeping into my body. I feel your fingers on the skin exposed at my waist just above the top of my skirt. I feel electrified. You scan the room for your sister, guiding me beside you. We move into the next room when we hear a yell from the hall up ahead.  
“Hey! Look who’s here!” A short brunette appears in front of us.  
“Hi,” you yell back over the music. Their short black hair is gelled up and glistening in the low light. Even though they aren’t as tall as you, they look tall in the close fitting, dark blue button down tucked into their slender slacks. You lean in close to my ear and say, “They are a friend from college.” I smile and nod. Turning back, you ask, “Have you seen my sister?”  
“I think she’s upstairs. Who’s this?” gesturing at me.  
“My girlfriend.” You hug me closer. “D., this is Waverly. Waverly, D.”   
“Cool, good to see you, glad you made it.” Then to me, “Don’t let this one fool you,” D. says patting your shoulder, “you’re looking at a total puppy dog.” D. winks at me and gives you a smirk, “Go get a drink from the kitchen and join me in the living room. I know there are other people who’d like to see you.” Then D. pushes past us.  
You draw me in front of you so you can wrap your arms around my stomach and speak directly into my ear. “I think you may be right. This was an invitation.” I feel your laugh on my neck and a chill runs down my back. Your thumb runs up and down my stomach, and I am suddenly aware of my lack of underwear. My breath catches in my throat as I realize exactly how turned on I am. My face grows red, this wasn’t a part of my plan. You press into my back to urge me forward. My thighs glide and I am struck by a terrifying thought, my skirt is pretty short- what if it becomes obvious I’m practically dripping down my leg.   
We step into the kitchen where you spin me around and press me up against the counter. You pin me back with a deep kiss. My gut clenches and I wonder if you know what you’re doing to me.   
I pull back a bit to look at you. Running my hands along your cheeks, I decide to tell you about my precarious state.  
“So I have a bit of a confession to make.”  
“What is it?”  
“You are really turning me on.”  
“Is that a bad thing?”  
“Normally, no. But, I may have taken off my underwear back at your place.”  
“Really?” Your astonished smile grows across your face. D is right, total puppy dog.  
“Really.”  
“That sounds like a good thing to me. Where did you put them?” You press another kiss against my neck. Your fingertips sneak down the back of my skirt, cupping the top of my bare ass. I feel you groan.  
“I left them in the medicine cabinet in your bathroom.” Then as an aside to myself, “I need to get them when we get back to your place.” I press my lips to your ear and whisper, “The problem is that you are getting me so wet.”  
“Huh,” you smile smugly.  
“And gravity being what it is…” I trail off  
“Oh!” A knowing look crosses your face as you look down at my short skirt. “Damn.” You place a hand on my inner thigh where the skirt ends.  
“Not helping!” I squeak.   
Your smile becomes downright predatory.   
“Go find your fucking sister so we can get out of here.” I insist. You nod back.

Just as you turn to leave, D appears at your side, but this time with a couple other friends. I groan internally.  
“Hey hot-stuff, quit making out in my kitchen.” says D.   
“Sorry, I just couldn’t resist,” you state, slipping behind me to lean against the counter. You pull me back against you while sliding a leg between mine. I can feel a blush growing up from my chest.   
D starts first, “So, Waverly, this is Mic and Jessy.” I nod and smile at Mic and Jessy. Mic is shorter, with close cropped black hair and a hint of stubble across his strong chin. His black eyes sparkle with a knowing smile. Jessy is taller, with longer red hair in a messy ponytail resting on her left shoulder. Her silky, wine-colored tank top rests causally across her breasts, and compliments the tight fitting, dark jeans ending in black leather boots.  
“We all met in Prof. Anderson’s gender studies class.” D says. “Hot-stuff here,” D points at you, “tried to hit on her.”   
“I did not!” You exclaim. “Going to office hours is not hitting on someone. I just needed a little help with her class.” I look back at you and see a sheepish grin slip out.   
“Whatever, like you’ve ever needed extra help in gender studies. You’ve been studying gender your whole life.” D laughs.  
“At least one gender,” Adds Mic with a smirk. Mic slips an arm around Jessy’s waist in a way that leads me to assume they are together.  
“Shut up, ass.” You grumble. D and Mic laugh. Then you prop up your leg on the counter behind you, so that I am practically sitting on your thigh. You drop your arms around my abs, and hug me close to you.  
“So, how did you two meet?” Asks Jessy.  
Before I can start to answer, you pipe up.   
“We met at work. She’s working on a new HUD grant the city received.”  
Jessy looked confused, “I though you inspected buildings?”  
“I do, for the city, our department grants the occupancy permits. When a building is granted a change in use, I inspect it to make sure it meets with current safety and building standards. We also inspect all rentals in the city to make sure they are safe as well.”   
“Cool,” says Jessy, “I wish you would inspect my place. It’s a dump.” She laughs.  
“You have no idea how often I hear that.” You smile. “Waverly was given a cubicle across from mine when she joined the department.”   
“So was it love at first sight?” Sings Mic, comically.   
“Actually, I had to ignore her advances for the first few months.” You squeeze my stomach.  
“HEY!” I yell, “You’re the one who invited me out to a beer and theory night,” I clarify.  
“Beer and theory night? What’s that?” asks Mic.  
“It’s when people from the department go to the bar across the street after work for a little BS session. We hang out during happy hour and air our grievances.” You answer.  
“And you all get drunk off your asses, and trade horror stories from your inspections.” I add. “You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff they find on inspections.”  
“That’s true. I’ve only been there less than a year and I’ve already found two sex dungeons.” You laugh.  
“No way! Sex dungeons. What did you find?” Asks Jessy.  
You crack up before you can even start to answer. “It was totally gross. This dude kept insisting that he didn’t have a basement. And I’m looking at my report that clearly states that there is a basement to his unit. So I found a padlocked door and I asked him about it. He said the owner locked it up and didn’t give him access. So after a quick call to the owner, I confirmed that it is the door to the basement and it is a part of the apartment. Apparently the renter put the lock on the door.”  
“So did he finally let you in?” Ask Jessy.  
“At first he refused, complaining about his right to privacy. This was when I knew there was going to be something crazy in the basement. He was fighting me WAY too much.” You chuckle. “I called my supervisor for back-up, and when we threatened to cut off the lock with a bolt-cutter, he finally relented.”  
“What did you find?” Prods Mic, a look of horror growing across his face.  
“An S & M room. The walls were painted black, there were hooks and chains on the walls, and a masseuse table in the middle of the room.”  
“No way, you’re fucking with us.” Says Mic.  
“That’s not even the worst part.” You continue. “On the far wall was the guy’s pussy pic collection.”  
“What!?” all three exclaim.  
“Yeah, a wall of really up close pictures of pussies.” You laugh shaking your head. “I may be a fan of female anatomy, but this was gross.”   
“So what did you do?” Asks Jessy.  
“Nothing, there were no safety violations, he’s free to have a sex dungeon.” You shrug.  
“Gross.” Says D, shaking their head.  
“Yeah, pretty much. I didn’t want to touch a single thing in that room. I’m just glad there wasn’t much to inspect in there.” Everyone laughs at that.  
Jessy turns to me, “So do you go on inspections, too?”  
“No, I’m stuck at the office. I’m writing the policies and procedures for implementing the new grant the department received, it’s mainly a desk job.” I explain. “But I occasionally have a nice view.” I smile wickedly up at you. “Every time this one walks by with the uniform khakis on.”  
You smile back, and pull me a little harder onto your thigh. It’s enough to make me stiffen.  
Two can play this game.   
I lean my head back and mouth into your ear. “You’re going to have me leaving a wet spot on your pants, baby.” A blush erupts across your cheeks.

“Hey,” interrupts D, “you two need drinks. What will it be?”  
“Actually, we’re just here to pick up Sarah.” You say.  
“No way, come on. You’re here, stay!” Mic jumps in. D wanders off across the kitchen in search of drinks for us.   
D shouts out across the kitchen, “Two beers? Or something stronger?”  
You kiss me behind my ear and whisper, “What do you think, Sweetie?”  
I really do want to get you back to your house, but I enjoy being wrapped up in your arms and meeting your college friends. You start kissing lightly down my neck, waiting for my reply.   
“Ugh,” mutters Mic. “If you’re going to start that again, I’m out of here.” They both walk off toward D.  
“So what do you think?” You ask lightly in my ear.  
“I’m having fun, but I don’t want to stay too long.” I rock my ass subtly on your thigh. “This isn’t how I want to spend the night. Besides, we still need to find your sister. Won’t she be worried?”  
“She’s probably drinking herself into oblivion. But, you’re right, I should go find her. Do you want to wait here?” You ask.  
“I think I may find a bathroom.”  
You pout, “Don’t clean up too much.”  
“There’s plenty more where that came from.” I smirk. You press a quick couple kisses to my lips and then leave to find your sister. I cross my legs and wait for your return.

D circles back with two beers and hands one to me. “So tell me more about you.”   
“I grew up here, but went to school in North Carolina. I only just came back six months ago.” I started. “I'm living at home while I get established.”  
“So, you’re a policy person?” D asks.  
“Well, yes and no. I’m a writer, and this was a great opportunity. I like it, and I’m learning so much.” I say hesitantly.  
“But not your end goal?” Asks D.  
I laugh, “No. I’m not sure what that is, though.”  
D raises their beer in the air, “Here’s to uncertain futures.” I smile and raise my own beer. “I’m in pretty much the same boat,” D continues. “I think that’s the new normal for recent graduates.”   
“I think you’re right.” I answer.  
“We are the greatest generation of slackers.” D states proudly. “So. What would be your dream job?”  
“I honestly don’t know, maybe writing for a living.”  
“What do you write?”   
“Everything: short fiction, poetry, non-fiction.” I take a sip of beer. D smiles warmly.  
“Have you been published?”  
“No!” I laugh, my cheeks going red again.  
“Too bad. I was hoping to read something of yours.” We smile.

“Are you hitting on my girl?” I hear your voice from the stairs. You reappear and are half carrying your sister by her waist. She is so intoxicated that her head is resting against your shoulder. Her long, curly red hair spills down over her shoulders. She looks so much like you, and yet she doesn’t. You have a spark in your eyes as you walk up. You lean in and kiss my cheek.  
“Are you ready to go?” You ask.  
“Sure.” I say, then whispering in your ear, “ I never found that bathroom.”  
“Good. Let’s go.” Looking at D, you state, “It was good seeing you again, let’s find a time to have dinner.”  
“If you’re cooking, I’m in. So Waverly, did you know you’re dating one of the best cooks around?” D asks.  
“I was supposed to discover that this evening,” I quip. “But we got dragged into a party.” I wink at D. “It was good to meet you.”  
“Good to meet you, too. Next time we get together, I want to read something of yours.” I just smile back.

We steer your sister out of the house and down the walkway to your car. You prop her up against the back seat and then open the passenger door for me. I notice that your eyes are magnetically drawn to my legs. You rush over to the driver’s side and hop in. Quickly checking the back seat where your sister is insisting that she is fine, you drop a hand in my lap and lean over to kiss me. You give my thigh a quick squeeze through my skirt before taking it back to start the car.

The drive home feels longer than the drive out. You look a little worried.  
“I think I’m going to bring her back to my place. I want to keep an eye on her.” You glance back at your sister rolling her head across the window. “She usually doesn't get this drunk. I don’t think she should be on her own.” You look down at me, “Is that okay?” You ask.  
“I get it. She’s pretty out of it.” I say a little disappointed. This is definitely not how I thought the night would go.  
“Thanks, Sweetie.” You squeeze my hand. “I’ll put her in my office, on the couch. She can sleep it off in there.”  
You check the rear view mirror to make sure your sister is still okay, and slip your hand back onto my thigh. Slowly walking the end of the skirt up with your fingers, you slide your hand down between my thighs, searching. Your fingers reach a slick spot on my upper thigh and you groan. Keeping your eyes fixed on the road, you squeeze my thigh, and I slide my legs apart a bit to give you better access.   
“Baby, you’re going to make me have an accident doing that.”  
“Then you better learn to keep your hands to yourself.” I open my legs farther.  
“Maybe I should.” And you bring your hand back to the steering wheel.  
I pout a bit, sliding my hips down into the seat. I lean back, grasping the headrest. Your knuckles are clenched tight. I can sense how desperately you want to look down at me. I’m not making it very easy on you. I start grinding slowly on the car seat.  
“Really, you better stop that, or I will crash.”  
I smile up at you, and slowing the pace of my grind down to a crawl. Just fast enough that you know my hips are still moving.   
In the back seat, you sister groans, “Stop it, you two, or I’m going to vomit,” and flops down across the bench. I quickly sit up and giggle. I can’t believe that we’ve been caught by your sister. I decide to behave for the rest of the ride back. I’ll have my chance to tease you later, and not with your sister two feet behind us. I send up a silent prayer that she doesn’t throw up back there.

We pull into your driveway. Your sister is passed out in the back. You hand me the keys to the house, and quickly hop out of the car. Opening the back door, you pull out your sister. You carry her up to your door, as I fumble with the keys. Once the door is open, you rush her back to your computer room, depositing her on the couch. I hear you struggle to take off her shoes and pull a blanket over her body. She’ll have to sleep it off, but that means we have the rest of the house to ourselves. We’re finally alone again. You walk down the hall, with a deliberate pace, scooping me up in your arms, covering my mouth with your kiss before carrying me back to your room and placing me down onto your bed.   
“What about dinner?” I ask, with lightly feigned concern.  
“Fuck dinner.” You growl out as you climb up my body. “The only thing I want to eat is you.” Your eyes are locked on mine, waiting for my reaction. I grab your neck pulling you flush with my body, and kiss you deeply. I spread my legs around your hips. I know where you want to be, I want you there, too. Your hand wanders down my side, grasping the skirt pulling it up around my belly, sliding your fingers down over my core. I moan and press up into your hand. Slowly, torturously, you run your fingertips up and down, gathering the slick and spreading it everywhere.   
“God, you are so wet.”  
“I told you.”  
“I love that I can make you drip with desire.”  
“Yes.” I mouth around your lips. And then you are everywhere: surrounding me, pressed down on me, inside me. I am lost.

The next morning we wake up to the sounds of your sister fumbling around in the bathroom.   
She wretches.  
“Just ignore her, she isn’t here.” You whisper, pulling me into the warmth of your body. The toilet flushes and she swears.  
“We are alone in my home.” You groan. Wishful thinking.   
“Definitely no sister throwing up in my bathroom.”  
The water from the sink hisses.  
“I don’t hear a sister.” I say nuzzling your neck.   
More cursing.   
“Do you even have a sister?” I ask, kissing my way down your stomach.  
A cabinet door creaks open.   
“Absolutely no sister, what. so. ever,” you groan as I kiss below your naval.

“DUDE! Sick! What are dirty underwear doing in here?”


End file.
